Pray unceasingly. Pray with your thoughts, words, feelings and wills. This was Dena's message this morning. She always amazes me in her ability to hit the nail on the head of what I need. I need more prayer. I have tried to pray unceasingly all day today. I have never consciously tried it before and turns out, it is really hard. I get distracted from prayer easily. If I am in conversation, I can't seem to pray and talk at the same time. I also find it hard to return to prayer once I have had a conversation because I am either a) thinking about the conversation and its elements or b) thinking about self...what I want to do, what I want to say, what I have going on at school, etc. I used to think about other people: what are they doing or thinking, but I have come to find that is a waste of time altogether. So Dena says less thinking, more praying. I have heard that the object of spirituality is to take out self and replace it with God. I am sure God knows that is an impossibility on a whole, because he made us non-gods, rather God-like, but not exact replicas. So if I stop thinking about self and instead pray (think about God)...She says that God wants us to talk to Him. She says that God wants a relationship with us. But doesn't that seem a bit much to only have a relationship with God and no one else? Or maybe, that is not what she is saying. That seems like a Rae twisted bit. I think she may have been saying that when we pray unceasingly our actions will follow and our relationships will too. Kind of like the ping pong balls and the sand. But I have tried today. It is hard. I am distracted right now! I guess I just have to keep trying. It will probably get easier. It is a lot easier to pray when there is an urgency about it. It is harder to pray when you are like, Hey God, life is good. Thanks....No urgency. I must be missing something. I guess I will pray about it until I find out what it is.

My husband is always telling me he is the smartest man in the world...then my Dad walks in the room. My Dad never ceases to amaze me.

I am back in school, dutifully studying and going to class. I have been very proud to say that I have not skipped a single class. My hardest class is macroeconomics. The reason I say this is that his test was so hard that he is giving us an opportunity to make points on the first exam by watching a film from PBS. It is called commanding heights. It is about the global economy and the philisophies of government planned economy contrasting a free market. It is taking us through the turn of the century to present. It is a long movie. I think it will bring my C up to an A. That would be good. I am feverishly taking notes and mostly listening to what is being said as opposed to watching because there is so much information. One of the only pieces of music came on just after WWII in the movie. They were talking about the downfall of the conservative political party and Winston Churchill and the rising of the Labor Party with a resounding new effort to build a new Jerusalem. What was the piece that they played? Jerusalem. My Dad's girls' song. I don't know how my Dad did it, but he amazed me again at his intelligence.

I sang along.

My professor thinks I am nuts, not to mention the girl sitting next to me.

Something weird happened at school. People are missing. I thought it was just a Friday thing, like everyone cut class on Friday to go do whatever it is they had to do, but they were missing again today. Someone said that there is a bad cold going around...weird. I am grateful for the good parking spaces though.

Our house is officially in the fall mood whether the weather is or not. We went by the storage unit and picked up fall/winter items while storing not so fall and winter items. We also went on a great pumpkin hunt. John took me to Bert's pumpkin patch. There were two parking lots full of cars and then some. There was one great pumpkin patch that had all kinds of pumpkins. There were GREAT BIG ONES, itty bitty ones, green ones, white ones and even a set called cinderella pumpkins. We got a normal size orange pumpkin, a white one, a green one and a cinderella one. They also had all the accoutraments too. There were corn stalks and wild dried maize. So we got some of the maize, but decided to cut down our own stalks from our neighbors farm (per their permission of course!). We used our goodies from Bert's along with our own farm elements to create a beautiful harvest display at the end of our driveway. Fall is here!, it announces, at this house! Come and see! When you get to the door, the maize hangs with a beautiful bow. Fall is here! Just wait and see!

I am hoping to encourage the weather. It is getting right cool in the evenings where a light jacket is required. Just that thrill, that chill, that air that fall is coming.

I am ready or not!

My brother likes to hear about farm life. Two words: chicken litter.

Do you know what chicken litter smells like? It smells like money.

That is something that we say as we pass by a farm that has just emptied its chicken house or a farm that has just spread litter over the pasture. Chicken litter will grow grass on cement it is so powerful. Its potentcy in not just in its smell, but also in its power to grow things. It is a by-product of having a chicken farm that grows more money for the farmer who sells it and better pasture for the farmer that buys it thus making money for both farmers. So it smells like money.

That being said, anyone who has been to my humble abode knows that I live in the center of a pasture that grows cows. Yes, that is right my friends, right now, my house smells like money. Unfortunately the smell does not leave until the first rain...which we've had oh so much of lately.

My dogs found a whole chicken that was dead that fell out of the litter truck among the litter. They have been chowing down on the innards of it since yesterday and thumb their nose at the dry dog food I feed them. Gross. There is nothing like living in the smell. I forget after a while about the smell and then I sniff it and start looking for what is causing the stench and realize, oh! Money.

Ah, farm life. Can't beat it when it smells so good.

I had the whole weekend to myself. My husband was off to his Mama's and I was to study all weekend. You know what I did? Nothing. Not one single thing. Well, I did go work with Gertie Mae's at a fancy wedding. I succefully tied back the tie backs, placed the table placements, and garnished the railings. The railings were the hard part because I didn't have any experience in garnishing with garland. However, I was successful. Sherry did all the really hard stuff like designing everything. Then I came home to do...you guessed it, nothing. I watched almost a whole season of West Wing. In my search for the next season among my dvds, I realized that I have two fifth seasons. If that is not wierd, I don't know what is. I don't know how I got two fifth seasons, nor do I know why I would want them. I must not have been paying attention when I bought them. I really need six & seven to complete my collection, but not this past weekend, because I was doing nothing.

I don't usually comment on public events. I am a quiet active political person. I read, assess, form my own opinions and then vote. Although, if this was the trend, then no one would stand up and shout at the rain. I don't like to rant. I find it aggrevates my anger, like scratching an itch, it only gets worse. I take a point of view of discerning instead of judging. This keeps me out of trouble on so many levels: I don't alienate friends or family members; I don't propel the angry Rae image; and I have lots of people who enjoy my company. My close friends know my personal love for all things political give me a bit of room when I just need to talk about politics.


I haven't really consulted anyone before writing about the next little bit, but I haven't had that safe space to spell out my opinion on this particular event. So here goes,...


I have always been a bit mouthy whenever I hear racial slurs. I will cut people down for using phrases or words or even having an ethnocentric attitude. I don't stand for it inter-racially or intra-racially. If I hear a black man/woman using inappropriate language with another black man or woman, I will slice him/her to ribbons for self degredation. I just won't stand for it, under any circumstances. This being said, I have been almost killed for being mouthy (about racism or any number of other things, which is why I am less vocal today). However, I have also been respected for my prescence of mind, courage and heart.


I am not sure where I get this strength. The only thing I can think that I rely on is my experience in high school. Most kids in my neighborhood went to a private school. Everyone in my neighborhood was white. The public school that serviced my neighborhood was about 85% or more black. There were some Asian, not many and the rest white. I remember being one of three white females who "graduated" the seventh grade. My best friend in the eighth grade was suspended for fighting with a girl who called me a "white bitch" in homeroom. I remember Joseph Lowery coming to speak to my school. It was a very big deal and we were all in the gym for about an hour listening to him preach. The other thing I remember about that event was being in fear for my life as I walked out of the gym because I was one of the few white students. I remember being grateful that my spanish class that I was returning to was the first door on second hall past the gym exit on the left. I was afraid. The people in the school were pumped up after he spoke, with anger and a dangerous encouragement. I remember being called goldie locks for my blonde hair. I remember shootings at the mall next to the highschool. I remember having to walk through the mud in my pumps and dress that I wore for National Honor Society because there was a huge fight on third hall that left blood on the floor and lockers. I remember one of the coaches walking to the disciplinary principal's office with two young black men in headlocks so they wouldn't fight. I remember people going to jail everyday for violence in my school. And I knew why they were fighting. There was an underlying racial tension in my school that you couldn't cut with a knife. It was both inter and intra racially motivated. It was dangerous in my school.


I do not put up with racial slurs because cutting words are a result of cutting thoughts. Cutting thoughts and words lead to slicing actions. Racial violence is unacceptable on any level in thought, word or deed. I will not stand for it.


These young men, these Jena 6, that stood up for their civil rights through beating a classmate and leaving him for dead...I will not stand for it. There is nothing justified in their actions. They were violent. There is nothing about violence that deters racism. Martin Luther King, Jr. knew that. It is about changing thoughts. Violence does not change thoughts. The student who had to ask his pricipal for "permission" to sit under a "white" tree should have been the first indication to the principal that something was wrong in his school. PERMISSION? Are you kidding me? Why didn't the principal ask the student back, why do you feel the need to ask for permission? What is it that we as a faculty and staff, as educators need to address that would eliminate this lack of freedom for the student? Where were the teachers? Why was their no authority for the children? Why would racism ever escalate to a place of violence in today's society? THEY ARE CHILDREN. WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING THEM?


Do I think that the young men who beat the one young man should go to jail? for murder? Yes they should go to jail, and for attempted murder if there is proof of motive and intent suffienct to support the charge. If the young man who was beaten died, they should be prosecuted for murder. They committed a crime. I don't care why they committed the crime. They broke the law. The worst thing about taking the "law into your own hands" is that you are no longer protected by those laws. You are an outlaw. You are a criminal.


I don't know really what motivated my parents to send me to public school vs. private school. What I do know is that it was the best cultural experience I could have. I learned what it meant to experience racism. I know what its like to go to a school where tension is a part of the daily function of the school. I know what its like to say, yes I graduate from that highschool and have someone ask me back, "and you survived?". I know what it is like to be the minority. I know what it is like to live in tolerance and diversity. I know what it is like...

There has never been a reason for me to hit, kick, demonstrate in any violent way my intolerance for racial slurs, racial hatred, racial oppression. So why is there a reason for these six to get away with attempted murder for their intolerance of racial oppression? The answer is that they shouldn't. And if they do, their leaders should be ashamed of themselves.

There is a strange phenomena happening at this school. I haven't experienced it in the real world which may be a statement of maturity or ignorance. The women (as I only have exposure to women) are talking on their cell phone while going to the bathroom. I have been on the phone in mid-conversation while at home and snuck in a bathroom break, typically I am talking to someone who is family, like my Mom or Meg, but in a public bathroom? These gals just keep right on talking while they walk into a stall. No, I am not talking about: "hey, can I call you right back in a minute" conversations. I am talking about on the phone when they come in, while they wait in line for a stall, while they pee, wipe and whatever else, while they wash their hands and leave the bathroom. Never stop talking. It is the most amazing thing. What on earth are they thinking? What on earth is the person on the other end thinking? These women make their peeing public and their conversation public. It is so obscene. Who uses the bathroom in public without being arrested?

Strange women at this school.

SO...I am looking for a violent movie that is not passive violence but not grotesque violence yet provokes discussion. Any suggestions?

I tried to go with A Street Car named Desire, but it is too subtle as a result of desensitization. Then I made a pendulum swing to American History X, but I might traumatize the public. Any suggestions?

It is for a grant that will gain money for Crime Victims Awareness Week. Yes, this is a real thing and I have most of the grant proposal worked out except the movie. I need a middle of the road violent movie that has some of the road to recovery in it. Any suggestions?

It needs to be something the public would want to see, which means documentaries and super old movies (like black & white) are out. Something more recent with a real message of crime victimization. Any suggestions?